I finish pulling my blonde hair tightly into a red scrunchie on top of my head and clip a butterfly clip just to the side of it. I look in my locker mirror once more straightening the retro uniform with my name embroidered on and shut the door with a small clank. I walk out of the locker room and join Layla behind the counter gathering a tray and my notepad. The diner's not overly busy tonight but it's still relatively early and a lot of the booths are decked out with school kids. I can see Emily, Carrie and Vixxie pouring over the menus in a booth down the middle of the diner. The jukebox in the corner is surrounded by teenage boys who select a selection of eighties songs that filter through the greasy air, the LED lights brightening the place as the sun begins to set. I walk over to Layla who's pouring sugar into shakers, I take a tray and begin to help her as Jess and Hedi are already taking half the current diners orders.

"Hey, girl." She smiles brightly at me then scowls slightly, "Still not heard?" I shake my head referring to the Julliard letter, "Don't worry about it I'm sure it'll come sometime soon but... In the meantime... you look different... like I don't know..." She puts the sugar shaker on the tray and scans me from head to toe with narrowed eyes, eyebrows hitching up slightly.

"What? I haven't done anything different I don't think." I scan my uniform and smooth out my hair again.

"No, no. I don't think it's physical... like aurally you've changed. Every time I see you you seem just that bit more confident and... you've really tapped into your sex appeal." She nods and whistles watching me blush.

"Sex appeal?" I cringe and withhold a laugh, what the hell is 'sex appeal' when it's at home?

"Yeah. You've always been a beautiful babe but now you just seem... I don't know... more mature and sexy. My baby girl's all grown up, I mean she made friends, she got a fucking gorgeous boyfriend, she's off to Julliard and she no longer carries her V card in her purse." She fake sniffles, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

"Jeez Lay, keep your voice down." I blush deeper when the boys on the jukebox look over.

"Oh hush, this is massive and sex is sex. Prudes can go fuck themselves, pleasure is normal and thank fuck you're finally getting some." She winks again but this time I laugh and grab my notepad ready to serve some centre tables but the door opens, the bell chiming and four figures as tall as the frame its self barrel through the door in direction of the girl's booth. I catch B's eye as he waltzes past the tables, he smiles cheekily at me and blows a kiss before I see Blaze behind him, shoulders tenser than normal but when he sees me he sends me a wary smile.

I know it's my fault, my quarterback's been tiptoeing around me all week and I shouldn't have shut him out like that but my defence mechanism comes up first, shutting everyone out and talking comes a long time after. However, after our conversation this afternoon in Carries bedroom things seem clearer, less daunting and I know we need to talk. We're going to be okay... right?

I leave the counter and walk to their table with my notebook open. I'm so ruddy envious I'm not with them right now but college won't pay for itself, I can't expect Blazes family to foot the bill for everything and besides I love seeing Layla.

"Atty!" B yells as I reach the edge of the table, Blaze is sitting on the end so I make a point of resting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing, he smiles and cups his palm on top of my hand squeezing back.

"What can I get you guys?" I exaggerate my smile and pop a hip mockingly.

"How about some of your time? Can't you sit with us?" Rutherford asks, his arm around Emily's shoulders.

"I wish but I can't. I'm only on a short shift though so I'll be finished in a couple of hours."

"I'll wait for you," Blaze says.

"It's fine you go home-"

"Blondie, I'll stay. Pester the fuck out of you." He smiles triumphantly, lifting my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm. I shut up and blush.

"I'll tell you what you can get me." Brady looks over my shoulder as Layla walks past with her sugar shakers, "That babes number." He whistles looking pointedly at her ass. I whack him on the arm and glare but Layla's already heard, she walks back to us and pulls my notebook out of my hands, she scribbles on a page.

"Sure muscles." She rips the page off the pad and leans down to him... she leans past him, or rather over him, and proceeds to hand the paper to Vixxie. With a wink, she walks away from the table over her shoulder mouthing call me.

I try to hold in my laugh but it's pointless, we all burst into hysterics. Vixxie grins victoriously and Brady sulks.

"Man, that was fucking brilliant. Karma for GTA." Ethan wiggles his brows.

"Serves you right though. You acted like a pig." Blaze adds.

"It wasn't even a good pick up line." Carrie finalises wiping her tears.

"What can I get you for real? Reality check?" I quip, opening my notepad. When the laughter dies down they rattle off their orders and I head to the kitchen to put them in.

I should have not spent that extra two hours in the studio yesterday, I'm nearing the end of my shift and my feet are fricking killing me. It feels like I'm walking on glass, these boots don't help right now either. I slouch on the counter taking a few minutes to breathe then check the clock, I've only got about five minutes left, I might as well change. I walk back to my friends who still occupy the booth, every so often they'll chuck me a fry as I walk past carrying trays of food or drinks. They've decided to go back to B's to watch some movie or something so they're waiting for me to get off.

"I'm just going to get changed and then I'll be done." I nearly collapse onto the table in exhaustion, Blazes hand rubs my back and replenishes me with a zap of energy by doing so. "I'll get Layla to run your bill up if you guys are ready to go." They all nod and I slip off to the locker room, before I push through the door something grabs my wrist and tugs me lightly. I turn to see Blaze has followed me from the table, eyes flitting nervously.

"Can we talk quickly?" He asks, thumb running across my wrist under my dangly bracelet. I nod and push the door through to the locker room, passing one of the kitchens entrances with steam pouring from the doorway. Once we reach the room I walk over to my locker, not opening it just hanging onto the door latch. A heavy silence descends over the room, Blaze leans against the doorframe and it feels like a sea of the distance between us. The sizzling of grills and cries from the chefs are a dull rumble in the tension. I need to apologise, I can't take this anymore-

"I'm sorry." We both blurt, I turn abruptly to face him. He looks up through his dark lashes, lips turning slightly at the corners as he steps closer to me.

"Why are you sorry?" I ask taking a step like him.

"I completely ignored how you felt Blondie."

"Blazey, you don't have anything to apologise for. I was the one who tried to push you out, you can't help what I didn't tell you. You deserve to talk and feel happy about Alabama and I really am so proud of you. I didn't mean to grow... cold... I was just..."

"Scared?" He reaches out to take my elbow, I nod sheepishly. "Come here." He tugs me forward into his chest and wraps his arms around my small body. I relax into his warmth inhaling his minty scent, feeling his heart thump steadily. "We're going to be okay Atlas. I promise we're going to be okay. I'm not going to leave you." He whispers, my insides freeze and unfreeze unable to produce words I just clutch to him tighter.

"Are we okay?" I mumble, eyes closed.

"Yeah, we never weren't. Just talk to me okay."

I nod adamantly as he reaches up and takes my chin between his fingers. He leans down and kisses me feverishly, hot and deep as his tongue meshes with mine. He wraps my ponytail around his fist and tugs my head back to open my mouth further.

"I love you." He breaths against my neck.

"I love you." I whisper back, "Although I really should get changed... I smell like a fryer." He laughs and lets go of me so I can change into a pair of grey yoga pants and one of his black hoodies I stole this morning. Letting my hair loose from its ponytail I give my head a shake and take Blaze's hand walking back out to the front of the diner where our friends wait ready to leave. I bid goodbye to Layla who juggles two trays of empty plates and we set off through the doors into the muggy spring night. The sky is a dark navy with splashes of bright white light not blocked by the foggy clouds tonight. The humid air tugs around the hoodie collar and I can taste the hot air in my throat. The amble of chatter fades into the parking lot, laughing and shouting tinged with joy and freedom, it's a perfect evening with the perfect group of people... but something else bites at my skin.

The tiny hairs on my arms prick up and goosebumps sashay across my skin, I can feel something drilling into me. I stop just a few feet into the parking lot, Blaze clutches my hand tighter... he can feel it too. I peer up cautiously, his jaw ticks, eye like pinpoints staring in front of him but the feeling is coming from behind us. His back is taunted and his biceps strain under his tight black shirt.

"Someone's watching us," I whisper, it feels like the time I was at the mall but way more intense. Suddenly Blaze's phone rings, the shrill noise making our friends turn from their cars.

"Yo? You guys coming?" B shouts from the door of his Audi.

"Yeah, We'll meet you there... I uh... I forgot my ballet bag in my locker." I shout back whilst blaze drills holes into his cell. He clutches any tighter and I'll crumble into pieces.

NO CALLER ID

Illuminates the screen, he doesn't pick up just yet instead he waits until our friends are in their cars. I turn our bodies so it looks like we're going back into the diner but I scour behind us coming up short... I can't see anyone.

When the rumble of engines disappears down the street Blaze presses the green icon and puts the call on speaker. A heavy science drifts from the other end before, "I don't like to fucking wait. Round the back. Bring the Blonde." The call cuts abruptly, he grimaces down at the screen, thumb running across his lip. From his expression, I can already guess who's at the end of the line. The same one who sent Durant, the same one who still antagonises his son after everything.

"Atlas... I'm... I'm so sorry." Blaze drops my hand and encases his face in his palms, defeat evident on his features. We've been backed into a corner, he's been backed into a corner and for the first time he doesn't know what to do, he's not in control.

"Hey," I pull his hands from his face, "I wouldn't have let you go alone anyway." I muster a weak smile.

"This is all my fault." He doesn't meet my eyes so I force his chin up.

"It's not your fault you have a psycho father. I'm not in a position to judge." I try to joke but it comes out flat. I don't blame Blaze, I've been through worse and with him beside me I feel weirdly relaxed about this... maybe I'm just over all the bullshit that's been thrown our way.

"You stay behind me and if anything starts I want you to run, take my car and call Brady." He passes me his car keys and my stomach sinks, "Promise me Blondie. Promise me you will run and don't look back, just keep running."

"I... I can't drive." Blaze has been trying to teach me the absolute basics of driving his car but the gears scare me.

"You can. You've been doing well with me. You just have to go, promise me." He holds my face in his palms, eyes swimming through mine. Every inch of vulnerability and insecurity leaks through and latches to mine. Shit.

"Okay, I promise but don't do anything stupid." He looks away making my pulse thump erratically then leans down and presses a chaste kiss to my lips before leading us across the parking lot. He makes sure I stay behind him as we round the corner of the diner, not much exists around here just the bins and windows where deliveries come in. Stary bits of packaging and crates of random waste litter the ground but right by the delivery bay is a sleek black Mercedes C-class saloon parked, the engine rumbles quietly against the blacked-out windows. It shuts off when we approach and two guys get out of the front and open the rear doors, two other men get out of one side. All dressed in black with earpieces and black combat boots. The driver is the only one in a white button-down, the rest in black. The two men that get out of the back walk around the car and open the last door, standing two abreast as the final passenger disembarks the vehicle.

The man is older than the rest and is dressed also in black slacks and a black button-down, he's built like Blaze and has the same ocean blue eyes but the cheeky smile that Blaze adorns is replaced with a cold calculated one, void of all emotion and doesn't meet his eyes. He walks closer to us, men flanking his sides to the point where I think I'm in a fricking movie. Cold trickles through me and Blaze pushes me further behind him, his face void of anything, cold and set not removing his eyes from the guarded man. His heeled leather shoes click in the dingy street until he stops an arm's length from us. He sticks his hand out towards Blaze.

"Son."

❤️❤️❤️

😱😱

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️